


Desperate Times Call For Pornography

by MariekoWest



Series: DB✦Retrouvaille [2]
Category: Bartimaeus Trilogy, Dragon Ball Z, GohanxPiccolo, Original Work
Genre: Aliens & Hermaphrodites, Alternate Universe - Real World, Angst, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Crack, Demons/Djinni & Magicians, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Graphic Sex, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Lemon, Lime, M/M, NSFW, OOC-ness (deliberate), Other, Parody/Spoof, Per Chapter POV Switches, Porn, Seme Piccolo, Sex Toys, Shounen-ai, Smut, Uke Gohan, Uke Piccolo, Yaoi, 腐向け, 飯Ｐ, Ｐ飯
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariekoWest/pseuds/MariekoWest
Summary: Gohan Son Jr. is really an actor named Bastion Gyurie who is walking the plank to forgotten stardom. He was all but prepared to accept his fate and slip away unnoticed into the dingy, tumbleweed-haunted, cobwebby shadows of honourable retirement. That is- until he receives a mysterious offer one day that has the potential to rescue him and his career from destitution. The only catch is: it’s of the homoerotic art film genre. Will switching from the wholesome genre to the explicit adult genre be the miracle that saves him or the axe that breaks him?





	1. Act 1: The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> Only mature & open-minded audiences please, because this is pure insanity in the guise of distinguished prose. X-overs later with **The Bartimaeus Trilogy** & possible others. (Will most likely be beta'd again later. Need to give my brain a rest in between proof-readings. XI)

IT WAS AN INNOCENT ENOUGH POST that unremarkable Monday morning, that he didn't suspect it at all of being the life-changing thing it actually promised to be.

The A4-sized priority mail envelope was heavy and lavishly emblazoned with striking gilded leaf patterns and letters. It effortlessly stood out from the rest of his usual morning waist-high pile of cloyingly scented, pink-enveloped fan mail in its aura of pre-eminence. He's held enough of them in his lifetime to know what it was, and his hunch proved correct:

_It was a film script._

A preview sample of a project that is yet to be titled. It was almost an inch thick, complete with character and plot backgrounds, and references. Attached was a letter briefly explaining the proposal, and informing him that a handsome sum had already been deposited into his account as his "professional fee" for simply "considering" and _not flat out rejecting_  the offer within two weeks of his receipt of it. It further stated that should he decide to accept within that time frame, the amount will be tripled as his talent fee. All of this was conveniently signed:

_The Xs._

It was odd and rather theatrical for a job offer. But despite the circumstances surrounding it, truth be told, he couldn't've cared less at the moment if the proposition had come from the devil himself.

Receiving such an offer at a time when he was at the end of his rope- up to his neck in debts and due payments, was nothing short of a _miracle_. True, the ridiculously exorbitant amount being offered made him feel that there was a catch.  _There was always a catch._  And even if there wasn't any right away, being in this line of business long enough taught him that  _not_  having a catch is in itself most likely  _the_ biggest catch of all.

Of course, the possibility that this was all just some weird hoax or very elaborate prank did not escape his mind either; it wouldn't be the first time.

(A quick check of his bank balance, however, confirmed that the money had  _indeed_  been deposited into his account- eliminating the two aforementioned scenarios.)(Which forced him to reassess the situation in an entirely new light…)

Maybe this wasn't as eerily auspicious as his tired brain was making it out to be. True, he was slowly sinking into the "washed-up one-hit wonder" depression, but despite what his critics may say, he was _still_ -  _one of the_   _best_   _'washed up one hit wonder's to ever grace the big screen._  It wasn't every day an actor got to reprise a role in all instances for an extremely popular franchise that ran for over 10 original seasons, 3 reboot seasons, 1 spin-off series, produced 20 movies, inspired countless video games and merchandise, and continued to garner  _zillions upon zillions_  of zennies every year without fail. Which kind of made him practically a living legend.

To this day, he still got fan mail from parts of the galaxy that he didn't even know existed (and that's saying a lot since he  _did_  know most of the galaxy quite well). _To this day_ , going out in public places without hiding his true identity would expose him to either of two dire consequences -or both: Getting mobbed to death by die-hard Mary-Sue fans -which was a fairly common occurrence back in the days when they still toured often and held special events wherein they had to make personal appearances and perform onstage and such.

(Once, he was nearly successfully abducted by a horde of _Videl-lookalikes_  from a group called the  _Videl Satan Allegiance_ ; later confirmed to be a secret guild of mentally unstable fans who believed they were real life reincarnations of the said fictional character and destined to be married to him. _To this day_ , the trauma of the having more than a dozen weird looking Videls in funny shapes and sizes grabbing and staring at him hungrily as he lay bound and gagged in the back of a props van still gave him nightmares. Like a badly directed low-budget * _X-Filed_  episode.)

The second consequence was imprisonment for _breach of contract_. Up until the present, he wasn't allowed to disclose any aspect of his personal life to the masses -like what coffee shop he frequents or where he buys his favourite toothpaste- nor is he allowed to be romantically involved (or at the very least, be caught in public) with anyone or anything outside the demands of his binding agreement with his agency. At times it was hard to believe that they were no more than decorated slaves of the entertainment industry, but since he loved his job, he just chose to think of it as "professionalism".

(If you are still wondering at this point in the story who our lead actor is, then you have either been living under a rock for the past three decades or- are simply from another alternate dimension…)

Because in his younger years, the very attractive and once most sought after Bastion Gorhan Gyurie –or simply 'Bastion' to his friends- was- and will forever be known to the world, as the one and only  _Son Gohan Jr._  (which surely you already know is one of the main protagonists) from the iconic hyper-fighting action TV sensation entitled: * **" _The Dragon's Ballz"_**.

Not that he's outgrown the part; far from it. He's still more than eligible to play the role; with his youthful appearance hardly having waned at all. In fact, he could still effortlessly pull off teenage roles (his alien genes partly to thank for his decelerated ageing). Even in actual Earth years, he wasn't really  _that_ old at all. Tragically, though, actors nowadays who have stepped into their thirties mark, were considered  _antiquated_. Especially with the constant influx of newer, and  _younger_  budding stars, who despite their lack of actual substance and talent, were preferred by the equally short-sighted (money-whoring) producers over a seasoned veteran like him.

He took this turning point in his career as gracefully as any true professional actor could; but deep inside his pride as one took quite a harsh blow. Bastion was a modest person, but that didn't mean that he was unaware of his worth; having worked honestly to secure every keystone and linchpin of his career without a trace of the blatant obsequiousness that was so rampant in the showbiz industry. He was very proud of that fact- of how he had reached the pinnacle of success by way of pure skill, hard work, and mastery of his craft alone. No other actor- no matter how " _young_ " or good-looking- could match up to his outstanding repertoire…

A perpetually youthful robust build was consistently one of his strongest selling points that crushed his rival's ambitions and brought fans and detractors alike to their knees. Most actors bulked up to simply "look good" on camera, but his godlike physique served a purpose. He was actually also  _very_  strong and athletic (his alien genes, again, having a hand in his herculean strength); further honed by martial arts, which greatly prevailed all throughout his life. He already knew how to fight honourably even before he could utter his first three-syllable word. He did  _all_  of his fighting scenes and stunts with a passion, whereas some of his co-stars had stunt doubles to do all the sweating while they busied themselves admiring their own reflection or having their stylists fuss about a hair out of place.

And his natural physical endowments didn't end there. He certainly didn't come up short in the looks department either.

Where his rivals practically went bankrupt trying to compose an appealing façade on camera with countless beauty regimens and ridiculously overpriced anti-ageing cosmetics, Bastion Gyurie was born with the face of an Adonis. His naturally rosy cheeks against his overall healthy sunkissed complexion hardly required any makeup or maintenance. The healthy mane of chestnut brown on his head was the unending scourge and envy of his rivals. Where some of his co-stars had to endure horrendous hours of hair styling and layers of greasepaint application for each shoot, the only thing he had to do was dye his hair coal-black, style it in the teen _Son Gohan Jr.'s_  signature spiky fashion, wear contact lenses to darken his irises; put on his costume, and he was good to go! His face merely gets a daubing and puffing every retouch to remove perspiration, but other than that, everything was  _au naturel_ ; from his sweet bright baby-brown to naturally vibrant earth-green orbs, to his perfectly angled button nose, to his shiny apple-red lips and boyishly innocent, knee-melting killer smile.

Several years ago, during a live interview in a popular talk show, he was probed for the secret behind his good looks and brimming youthful aura…

_"I think what we define as 'beauty' is really a reflection of one's happiness. And for me, like most things, it's a fairly relative concept; there really are no set standards for individual happiness, and it can't be faked."_

_"So, you are saying, that Bastion Gorhan Gyurie's secret is that he is always happy." The host looks at the audiences with an expression of awe, which was complemented by hearty applause. "Well then, I am definitely buying that!"_

_Bastion chuckles softly, a shy ghost of a blush on his cheeks. Collective laughter, sighs, and swoons float up from the live audiences._

_"Did you hear that, ladies? …_ And gentlemen. _" Laughter followed perfectly on cue. "In that case, the real question here should be:_ 'what is the secret behind Bastion Gyurie's happiness'? Or should I say, 'who'? _See,_ now _we're definitely getting somewhere." More genial laughter._

 _Bastion good-naturedly face-palms, but the colour on his cheeks were visibly brighter this time. "Well, *Operah-san I'm not quite sure of the answer to that myself… All I know is that the smile you always see on my face_ has never been an act. _"_

(Ironically, it was that controversial interview that had won him numerous endorsement deals for vanity and anti-ageing products claiming to only "aid" in ' _enhancing one's natural beauty'_  apart from being 'all natural and organic'. And for a time, taglines like,  _"Wear only authentic happy.", "Apply the smiles liberally." and_ " _Wear Bastion's face. Smile included, for only 5,000 zennies a bottle!_ " were all over billboards and television screens, with Bastion's princely face as their figurehead.)

Being a couple of centimetres over six feet didn't hurt his curriculum vitae either. The actor who played his father in _The Dragon's Ballz_  was short by a centimetre of six and actually had to wear elevator shoes just to avoid being dwarfed by him. And to top it all off as  _'the icing on his cake'_ so to speak: he was  _exceedingly smart_ , with an I.Q. level that rivalled Einstein's and Tesla's _._  In fact, that was one of the biggest reasons he was chosen -even when he was just a toddler- to play the role of the monkey warrior's scholarly son. He was so perfect in every aspect in fact, that there were speculations that the real reason they slowly muted down  _Son Gohan Jr._ 's role in the show was that they could no longer afford the rate of his services. Rumours had it that even Chase Kozawa (the actor who played  _Son Goku_ ), had a relatively lower talent fee because if not for his charisma, he was just an ordinary Earthling from the West, without any alien powers; compared to Bastion and other actors like Vinztche Dorian who had real Saiyajin blood.

Further testament to his good looks was reinforced when he was recurrently featured in front covers of several controversial magazines in the height of their two decades of unbroken success. He was dubbed as one of the "most alluring faces of ' _The Dragon's Ballz_ ' cast" alongside Trevor Loref and Liam Sotea Jr. (not counting the actresses of the show, who were all notable bombshell models and sexy stars; featured too and rumoured to have crushed on him at some point).

Sadly, all of that, however, was now fast becoming lost in history. Eight years ago, the show's new producers have decided to move on to the next generation of  _The Dragon's Ballz_  characters, feeling that making  _Son Gohan Jr._  the main protagonist in the show's seventh season instalment was a "wrong move" because he didn't bring about as much glory to the franchise as  _Son Goku_  did. (And by "glory" here, we mean  _'money'_.) Of course, they were sure to pin the blame on Bastion, as an actor. Completely altering his character's established personality and attempting to turn him into a  _Son Goku_  replica had nothing to do with the drop in ratings at all, no way. So they needed a  _rabbit-out-of-a-hat_  twist in the story to ease  _Son Gohan Jr._  out of the spotlight; which in the tradition of cliché sell-out plot devices, was either to kill him off or have him marry off.

Hence, the shotgun wedding and sudden normalisation into a life of dull domesticity and non-violence complete with the hard-sell cutesy daughter who predictably grows up as a nagging brat who takes over as the lead protagonist in the next instalment of a poorly disguised reboot of the series; fading  _Son Gohan Jr._  into the background like all the other non- _Son Goku_  characters of the show, to be blatantly ignored by the newer and more dilettantish fans, and (hopefully) finally forgotten. And so far, it seemed as though their master (and direly platitudinous) plan was working too.

Son Gohan Jr. fans felt betrayed by the character's retirement. Some of them would have preferred a hero's death over the marriage. While Son Goku fans rejoiced in the continued monotony, Bastion Gyurie's career nosedived, and in the years that followed, the brilliant –but unfortunately, typecast- actor, had somehow eluded the radar of big producers. After almost ten years, he was practically derelict, living off of his dwindling savings, and declining royalties; backed into a corner because he wasn't even allowed to get a job outside of his contract which was still in full effect. Having managed to amass a modest fortune (enough to buy a house and make some humble investments) was something he was forever grateful for, but now it seemed that  _that very thing which made him_  was going to be  _the very thing that would break him_. Pushed aside and tucked into the shadows, he couldn't help the feelings of bitterness growing in his chest, mixed with an occasional stab of nostalgic melancholy for  _"the good old days"_  when he was hot and fresh and insanely sought after.

Which brings us back to where we left off:  _"the offer"_. An offer which was much too fortuitous and opportune a coincidence for him to feign disinterest in. It was all about  _his needs_  now, and not his wants. So down in the dumps was he in fact, that even his pride had remained silent for the most part of his journey on foot to the very mysterious location specified in the letter the next day- which was unusual for someone like him who was usually very conservative about the roles he accepted.

 _Desperate times called for desperate measures_.

He could definitely relate to it now that he was experiencing it first-hand. Perhaps this was the answer to his financial woes; the break that he had been praying for? It didn't matter if he was being asked by a  _very_   _amorphously named "private party_ " to do what he normally considered outside of his comfort zone- and even rather "indecent" (as he used to tease his older sister Klarion when she accepted her first "daring" movie role), he  _was_  an actor after all. This might as well be a challenge from the gods. A sign _,_ that maybe it was time to expand his horizons and delve into a more mature and daring side of his craft. He wasn't going to back out just because his feet were getting cold.

With clammy palms, he pulls out the letter from his coat pocket one more time, and scans the portion with the specific instructions about his "meeting"; more to buy him time to regroup than anything:

_We have prearranged a meeting with your prospective partner, as we know that you are both very particular with your co-actors, and foresaw this point of concern as the only possible reason for you to refuse our gracious offer. We do understand, and we would like for our two main actors to be as comfortable as possible because this project's success rests heavily on your chemistry. We are very excited to begin making beautiful art with you!_

_Sincerely yours,  
The Xs_

He gives the directions at the bottom another glance for good measure, then stops to take a deep calming breath before rounding the final corner which would take him to the park where the meeting spot should be.  _Okay, Bastion. Yesterday you were a has-been. Today, your new life begins as a_ , err-  _a 'pornographic actor'? in a… homoerotic underground film._ He has recited this mantra all morning as he woke up, showered, and dressed. It felt like the more he said it, the more his anxiety went down a smidgeon, so he kept at it every step of the way. But now, as he got closer and closer to discovering who he was going to be paired with, he felt the anxiety shoot up and seize him all over again.

A hollow, breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he takes another long calculated breath to calm his quivering muscles. Finally, he tightens his collar and resumes his careful but sure strides towards the park entrance; his mind racing.  _Who among the hundreds of possible candidates could have been cast as his co-star?_  Only minutes away from the answer, and he was bursting with nerves.

Since the letter mentioned 'chemistry' it was most likely someone he had already worked with. But apart from  _The Dragon's Ballz,_ no other noteworthy projects come to mind…  _except_ his guesting as  _Gabriel Drake_  for the seventh season of the sensational occult series, * **" _The Devil Knows My Name_ "** (which he was a big fan of), where he played the maniacal genius older brother of the anti-hero protagonist _Nathaniel Drake_. He had a blast working with the amazing tandem of Julien Murcrowe and Bartholomew Hughs before his stint for the show ended after his character was killed by the djinni  _Bartimaeus_ in the show's eleventh season. But then both those actors and most of his co-actors in  _The Dragon's Ballz_  have had no qualms about doing sexual films, and in fact, already have one to several erotic titles neatly filed in their filmography. Only he and Correm Yumin have steered clear of it thus far, so he could be paired off with  _any_ of them, and it was no use trying to guess who it might be anymore.

No matter how he kept telling himself that it wasn't important who he had to make his debut into the  _wonderful world of homoerotic films_  with, his brain would not be convinced. It wasn't the role or even what was expected of him that he was so antsy about. The truth is, he has always been somewhat of a high-level introvert (the kind who leaned towards being recluse), and he was always secretly fastidious about the people he worked with. It was his maxim  _to always expect the best but be prepared for the worst._  And in this case, the "worst" would be one of those mainstream  _gay_   _ikemen_  types who were the screaming craze nowadays, especially in  _shoujo_  sitcoms. The image of  _bone-skinny, artificially feminine looking "men" twerking and gyrating their hazardously bony hips onstage_ was something he had always found perturbing to a deeply psychological degree; that his being flooded with sheer dread at the prospect of being made to lie naked with one of them, more so perform anything more intimate, even for art's sake. His delicate introverted sensibilities were at the moment, clashing spectacularly with his professional pride. (Though he was grounded enough to acknowledge that it was their kind that raked in the dough these days, thus increasing the odds in his disfavour. But still…)

_Oh gods, please, anyone but them…_

He shook his head to dispel the disturbing images and steeled his nerves, reminding himself of his current financial predicament to fuel his resolve. Then, endeavouring to swallow the ballooning squeamishness in his throat that threatened to hijack his legs and make him run in the opposite direction as fast as he could, he forced his heel to finally ascend the stone steps leading to the designated spot.

So as he found his world abruptly moving out of the  _wholesome_  genre and into the more unexplored realms of adult films, he was about to determine just what the genre of his life's new undertaking will be…  _A comedy? A romance? A suspense thriller? Or maybe, just plain horror…_?

_The seconds to the final verdict counted down in heart-stopping slow motion…_

**End of Act 1.  
** Continued in  ** ~~Act 2: Leading Lady(?)~~ Act 1.5: Nostalgic Intermission **…****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All marked with (*)s are spoofed/parodied names.
> 
> * * *
> 
> (06/23/2016 - 10/06/2016)


	2. 1.5 Nostalgic Intermission (Bastion Gorhan Gyurie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backed into a corner, Bastion Gyurie is forced to consider a whole new and daring path to redeem his career. But just how far will he compromise his dignity for the sake of professionalism (and some much needed extra dough)? Will he finally learn the identity of his mysterious "leading ~~lady err-~~ man" and have his reservations about it finally assuaged?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Some sailor-style profanity.

THAT SINGLE SECOND IT TOOK to cross the blind slope in the park before I glimpsed the form of this mysterious "leading man" whom I was supposed to have a ton of chemistry with (enough to bank on for a string of artistic homoerotic films)- was all it took for my world to transform into one grand scale fate-orchestrated magic show. The slope being the universe's version of that dramatic curtain waiting to be lifted, to reveal the outcome of this magic trick being staged just for me. And my breath refused to leave me until it did.

And then- I finally saw it.

_Only, I really didn't._

 

**\--------x--------**

  
Act 1.5: **  
Nostalgic Intermission**

  
**\--------x--------**

 

My breath stopped dead smack in the centre of my chest, refusing to budge, expanding ever so surely until my lungs felt like it was going to pop through my ears.

"Hey," I greeted casually, shifting all my well-honed skills in acting to high gear as I attempted to pull off what I'd hoped was a convincing "calm and cool" jog up to the spot of my climactic revelation put on hold. My squickiness over the boy bands was completely reduced to a speck of mote by now, that would have leaked out of me (most unpleasantly) as pee if having commendable Kegel muscle control had not happened to be one of my hidden talents. Luckily, I didn't have to fake being short of breath, because I really  _was_  breathless. From utter shock.

"Imagine running into you two here!" I say with a practised smile, thanking the heavens that my voice didn't falter.

_Two._

That's right. Not one- but two. The verdict was supposed to be in the form of only  _one_  man, so why the fucking dragon's ballz are there  _two_?

I couldn't help an internal hollow laugh at yet another example of fate's demented sense of humour. Succinctly put, there were two possible answers to my "one million zenny question", and they were complete opposites of the spectrum.

One of them could be counted as a  _worst possible scenario_  candidate (one that I had forgotten to consider alongside the boy bands). Whereas the other? Well… he just happens to be my( _wildest most depraved_ ) _dream come true!_

_So now, which of them was it?_

I tried to discern who acted like he was supposed to be here and who didn't, but their faces conveyed the same amount of surprise and puzzlement as mine most probably would have if I wasn't trying to pretend otherwise.  _Fucking swell._  It looks like I was going to have to push my non-existent breakfast down a little bit longer as my stomach tied itself into complicated knots from unresolved suspense overkill. The impatient subliminal obsessive-compulsive freak in me, however, couldn't resist reassessing my odds.

I admit that this 'worst case scenario' isn't as horrific as twerking prepubertal men- and I'm not the kind who jumps on the rumour band wagon- but the notoriety surrounding this guy's habits of sleeping around (and being terrible at it too) did tend to make even the best of us wary. Sure, we've worked together in the past. But on the chemistry scale, we would score a hands-down  _zero to zilch_. I've always had trouble connecting with him, even on a professional level. If he's the guy I'm supposed to work with, he's bound to have the experience, sure. The only question is: will it be the helpful kind or the traumatic kind? I'm not really keen on starting on the wrong foot here, as I am treading on uncharted territory.

As for other one present here- no, I wasn't being melodramatic when I said he was my 'dream come true'. Because he really literally and figuratively is. This was someone I considered so beyond me in terms of acting ability and natural talent- placed so high up in my venerative pedestal in fact- that I didn't even dare to imagine finding him here at all. Getting to work closely with him all those years was something that never ceased to feel like a dream. It was all too good to be true. Apart from that, I do  _literally_  dream about him a lot- and they're often of the wet variety. The first time it happened, I was pretty resigned to the fact that I swung both ways. But after almost ten years of having yet to dream of anyone else that way –male, female or everything else in between, I began to seriously reconsider my place in the sexual orientation category. Even if those dreams start out with females, it would always end up with  _him_. And no matter how I tried to "stem the flow", well, let's face it, no amount of muscle control could really prevent those, right?

I knew the most logical and immediate solution to my problem would be to simply ask. But there was the risk of breaching a confidentiality agreement that made that approach unwise. For one, I was absolutely certain that  _today_  – _right now and right at this very spot_ \- I was supposed to meet my  _co-actor_.  _Singular_.  _Not_  plural. So one of them had to be the odd one out because only two of us here were supposed to be bound by the same enigmatic contract…

My heart leapt up to my throat as they turned to me with quizzical expectant looks.  _Crumbs._  Did I go beyond the acceptable duration for internal monologuing that I completely failed to notice when the silence had gone stale? My mind frantically backtracked…  _Mr_   _Worst Case Scenario had been prattling about his protein-rich breakfast and "fabulous" physique, and blah-blah-blah, well, nothing of relevance there…_  Was I supposed to comment on that drivel? Could he have asked me something important that I missed? Or were they both simply waiting for me to explain why I was here? Everyone knew what a pain stepping out of the house could be when you were obligated to wear stupid ultra mega dark sunglasses and absurdly conspicuous hooded jackets while at it just to avoid drawing attention to yourself, which pretty much accomplished the opposite of what it was trying to achieve all the same. And yet, there were three of us here, out in the open, in our creepy sunglasses and oversized hoods conniving like a gang of juvenile criminals. Only two of us were here out of dire necessity, so chances are, one of us was just plain mental. Either which way, the longer I kept up this very suspicious internal soliloquy, the harder it will be for me to weed my way out of it, so I had to say something- anything! just to break the proverbial ice. Endeavouring not to choke on the pressure that had accumulated into a thick sludge in my chest from all this ridiculous drawn-out suspense, I swallowed the prickly lump that had wedged itself in my oesophagus - _I had no idea what the fuck I was going to say_ \- and yet my mouth seemed to know better because it was already opening to speak—

But all of a sudden, time is frozen and everything is blanketed in a whitewashed haze…

(In short, we're going into a flashback.)

 

My name is Bastion Gorhan Gyurie. The mere mention of that name evokes profound admiration and wreaks emotional havoc all throughout the known galaxy, regardless of race or gender. It's a name no one would think to associate with a once insignificant squat of a kid who had no ambition whatsoever beyond being the perfect erudite student. You see- I wasn't always "that guy"- whose face was all over billboards and magazine covers; the reason you bought that fizzy drink I was so sensually drinking in a commercial on TV that (chances are) you didn't even like in the first place. They say it's the role that chooses the actor, and that couldn't have been truer for me because being an actor was something I never foresaw (and didn't even like), and yet- there I was, a child of mere three years, on the set of such a big and bustling production filled with important adults where everyone was someone. As smart and precocious as I was- I was scared and overwhelmed out of my wits.

But then, I soon found out that I was not alone. There was another child there in the same boat as I was;  _a first-time actor with no prior experience who only happened to be there because of his prodigious talent that suited what his character needed._  The circumstances guaranteed our friendship, and time strengthened it. To say he defined my ambition and much of my life thereafter would be no exaggeration at all. Acting became my passion. And he became the reason behind that.

I would be remiss to say that it remained as innocent as that. Though we practically grew up together on and off the set, he easily surpassed me from day one and set the standards of what a truly great actor ought to be. To be given the chance to meet, work, and be friends with my  _beau ideal_ , was something I always thanked my lucky stars for, and honestly I thought that was all there was to it. But my fourteenth birthday changed all that. I was already his number one fan then. A secret I kind of hid out in the open. I never denied it to anyone and yet I always felt the need to trivialise the proclamation with nonchalant laughter. They had no idea (and in hindsight, neither did I) about how deep those waters actually ran.

I made it a point to study films of most notable predecessors as part of my efforts to constantly improve and learn from  _the best of the best_.  _He_  may not have been a predecessor of mine, but his films were always my top priority. For one, I was already learning a lot from him on and off the set, I knew so much more could be gained from assimilating his performances from the other end. And two, since he was also my best friend, buying his films were my humble way of showing my support. I thought of it as hitting two birds with one stone, so to speak. It wasn't easy in beginning. I wasn't of age yet so my older sister managed all my affairs and I only got a portion of my talent fee as allowance. I saved every zenny I could, just to be able to buy whatever I wanted (which more often than not, were his films). It came as no surprise when he started getting more offers than me, and I was always,  _always_  beyond excited for him (even if I downplayed that enthusiasm in front of him). But many of those offers were for independent and underground films so it presented an even bigger challenge for me to procure. I still remember how trying to find his films often felt like an insane treasure hunt. But no matter how difficult it got, getting to behold my hero and best friend in his element made it all worth it,  _every single time_.

The life-changing event came in the form of a rather anti-climactic shabby overpriced package- at a time when I was a few paces shy of full-blown adulthood. First, I made sure Klarion was out and that I was securely locked in my room with the volume turned low before I inserted the disc into the player with bated breath and sweaty palms. I knew I was about to watch something normal fourteen-year-olds shouldn't be watching, so I played it safe. I had seen adult films before and it was no big deal. I treated it as research material for art's sake, as I always did. At fourteen, I was very knowledgeable and mature about a lot of things, and I already knew all about the birds and the bees long before even most toddlers grew out of breastfeeding. But some experiences can never be lived vicariously through books, as I was about to find out… Watching someone you felt a strong affinity for playing out a daring erotic role was nothing at all like when nondescript actors were doing it. It was two completely different worlds. The former did a number on my adolescent hormones that the latter never did- and the chemical reaction it triggered in my body was something I was totally unprepared for.

No matter how I tried, the sights and sounds introduced to my mind that day were impossible to unsee and unhear. It grew in me like a virus, becoming an idée fixe so powerful and consuming that I eventually surrendered and let it carry me across that line that I had absolutely no interest in crossing before. It took me to a place within myself that I didn't even know existed- too deep and too far beyond that threshold of no return.

And that's how my real-life mentor and best friend,  _Liam Princelo Sotea Jr._  -more controversially known to the world as  _Piccolo Daimaoh Jr._ \- didn't only manage to shape and influence the course of my life completely, but also capsize everything I had ever envisioned of possible future romances with girls as though it had all been built on a raging river instead of cemented ground. Because after that day, my initiated mind refused to see women, men -and everything else in between- in the same way again.

The cliché white haze of the intrusive flashback fades away at this point to bring us all back to the present where we left off. The part where the cliff-hanger from the first chapter was supposed to have been resolved at a glance- if there had been just one fellow actor definitively standing on this very specific spot in this less frequented area of the park.

 

"So…"  _Which one of you received an offer to star in a homoerotic movie with me?_  "What's up?"

_I guess my mouth decided that it could hold out with me for a little bit more…_

 

 _Gerom Matyach._  Once hailed one of the most good-looking men of  **The Dragon's Ballz**  cast and one of the two present here. Unfortunately, his looks were so far the only part of him that has garnered any claim to fame recently. If you're a fan of the later instalments of the franchise, his once venustaphobic bandit turned Z-Senshi character named  _Yamcha_  probably wouldn't ring any bells. But during the show's earlier glory days, he was quite famous in his own right. These days, he usually wouldn't be caught dead without a female attached to him on each arm (which is probably why I almost didn't recognize him right away; his arms were empty). That, and he's put on a bit of bulk since I last saw him. I heard from my sister that he used to date the bombshell model  _Lorelei Belle_ , more fondly known as " _Honey B. Lum_ " and (of course)- as the one and only  _Bloomer Briefs_. But a statement from Gerom that he loved partying with women too much to stay tied down effectively ended anything they had off-screen. (He later confessed that he was drunk when he said that and didn't mean it.) I knew for a fact that Lum really did like him initially, but couldn't stand how he couldn't "keep it in his pants". Gerom- like most of us who just wasn't "Goku" enough- had hit rock bottom in the years that followed. And from the what I gather of him now, it looks like he hasn't had much luck getting back on his feet either. I was somewhat happy to see that his ego doesn't seem to have suffered much due to the sad turn of events. That didn't bode well for me at all, though, if he's the one I'm going to have to be stuck with doing things that I really  _would much rather not do with him_.

My chest constricts involuntarily as I turn my sights to the sunnier side of the park. (Then again, anywhere Liam was standing, the world always seemed brighter.) Beholding all of Liam's seven-foot gorgeous green resplendence after staring at Gerom for too long was like a breath of fresh air to my soul. It really has been  _too long_  since. He looks like he got even longer –err, I mean,  _taller_. I mentally shake my head to contain the gushing tide of emotions rising in my gut. Our last shoot together had been in the reboot season ( **The**   **Dragon's Ballz GTA:**   **Goku Times, Again** ), after which, we all just fell separate ways trying to keep ourselves afloat; neither of us even having the time to go out for a simple get-together drink. It has been so damn crazy for me since then, that I hadn't realized how much I missed him until this very moment. If Liam was in the same sinking boat as Gerom and I were in, well, he certainly didn't look it. That was one of the things about him that I could never stop both admiring and envying. The way he handled everything with unbelievable stately grace and that ever-so-sublime composure of his. And that's saying a lot since he was probably the only one in the cast of The Dragon's Ballz who had it as worse. The producers tried to eject his character from the franchise more than once, only to end up begging him to come back each time. Even if they had initially and repeated doubted the character's potential, they were soon made to accept the fact that Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. had a following so faithful and had established a niche for him in the market that was so solid, that they couldn't ignore anymore and was eventually even forced to cater to. They managed to re-establish him in the show albeit with severely reduced screen time, but killing off his character again was now out of the question, too afraid that doing so would permanently cripple the franchise. It was a poetically just victory I silently shared, in spite of everything.

For some moments, we all just stared wordlessly, like we were all having our own personal monologues (only this chapter is my own personal first person POV so you don't get to hear theirs). And I reckon after having to read through all my internal rambling, you already pretty much know what I'm thinking.

 _Will my life move into the sweet romantic-friendship bromance genre with wonderful and sexy Liam? Or will it be of the psychological suspense thriller –somewhat dysfunctional- comedy genre with philandering Gerom?_   _(And Kamisama, I can only pray that he's not hiding any venereal diseases because the contract states that the sex has to be real, so that part is not going to involve "acting" at all- not by a longshot.)_  Dread, excitement, horror, bliss- too many conflicting emotions were bubbling, swishing, and swirling inside me at the moment like super carbonated bile; rising and falling and fluctuating in my mind, mimicking the sound waves in the visualization graph of my MP3 player.

 

A loud and forced cough from Gerom pulled me back to earth, and only then did I realize that I had been staring at Liam and Liam had been staring at me, and we had been completely ignoring him; lost in (what I tended to imagine to be) one of those hypnotic eye-to-eye spells charged with incendiary levels of subtextual sexual tension. I instantly broke eye contact and awkwardly cleared my own throat, averting my gaze as I felt my cheeks flush with intense heat all the way to my ears. My heartbeat refused to settle down fast enough, so in an effort to distract myself, I trained my eyes on a caterpillar that was bobbing its head ambivalently between two trees, most likely caught in the momentous dilemma of which tree best to die and be reborn in; and oh, how I felt for the little guy at the moment! We were in a predicament more similar than meets the eye; beating ourselves over making a wise decision when our choices really didn't matter anymore because everything had already been predetermined anyway. A soft grim sigh filtered through my lips.  _Poor thing…_  From its limited vision and vantage point, it had no way of knowing that on the tree to its left was a horde of fire ants milling all over scattered sap and honeydew; and that the tree on the right would be the safer bet.

As a child, I've always pondered endlessly if it was the right thing to do to help caterpillars up trees and snails cross the street. But since the books always said that it was best to let nature run its natural course, I was afraid to interfere and so I never did. After such episodes, though, I'd be wide awake all night and bothered about it, wondering if the caterpillar found a safe branch to become a butterfly in, or if the snail made it safely across the street without being morbidly crushed by an oncoming cyclist.

Maybe it was true. That sometimes, we can't help our own fate. That now was one of those times that I had to accept things as they were because there was no way of knowing ahead if it I had made the right decision or not. But- if I there was something I could do to help a fellow creature in altering its life to make it better, then I decided once and for all:  _why the hell not?_  I was, after all, a part of nature too, wasn't I?  _We all are._

Gerom was talking again but it arrived as nothing more than white noise to me as I slowly got down on one knee and -in a fit of inspiration- gently picked up the tiny fella and eased it onto the lowest branch of the safer tree. By the time I had completed the task, I was faintly aware of Gerom and Liam finally bidding each other goodbye, and the waves of horrible dread and excitement returned full force…  _Who would I find waiting there when I turned back to look?_  My anxiety was momentarily forgotten as the caterpillar seemed grateful for my help and was actually even allowing me to pet its head lightly. I bade it a whispered ' _goodbye and good luck_ ', before I took a deep breath -deciding to take a page out of my furry little friend's book- and bracing myself to face whatever life had in store for me with resolute courage, regardless of whether it was going to be painful like an army of ant bites and as inescapable as tree sap. I thought I sensed the caterpillar wishing me luck too and it emboldened me somehow.

I wait for the sound of retreating steps to fade away completely before I finally stand my full height and slowly turn around.

I bite my lip to stop it from quivering, but my eyes stung all the same as the weight in my chest seemed to lift, only to be replaced with little bursts of bright hot fireworks, expanding and radiating from my core.

I closed my eyes… and slowly flattened one hand against the tree crawling with fire ants, pleased when tiny jolts of extreme pain pervaded my senses. I mentally chuckled and thanked the ants for their help. If I had been dreaming a second ago, I most assuredly was wide awake now. Satisfied, I withdrew my still stinging hand, and once again, slowly opened my eyes…

Gerom was gone.

And there was only Liam.

_Beautiful…_

_Wonderful and sexy Liam._

 

 **End of Act 1.5.  
** Continued in  **Act 2: Leading Lady…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piccolo always loved putting on an act, and that's a canon fact. 83
> 
> * * *
> 
> (12/23/2016 - 12/24/2016)


	3. Act 2: Leading Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A face-off ensues between the two great actors and closest of friends. Will they be willing to clean out their closets to be able to make their first romantic film together work? Or will they prioritize keeping their secrets hidden more than actually getting what they want? More importantly, since when did any of those start to matter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **The Cast List** (so far):  
>  _Bastion Gorhan Gyurie_ is **Gohan Son Jr.**  
>  _Liam Princelo Sotea Jr._ is **Piccolo Daimaoh Jr.**  
>  _Gerom Matyach_ is **Yamcha** (cameo)
> 
> ( **Mentioned only** , so far...)  
>  _Chase Kozawa_ is **Son Goku**  
>  _Klarion Gyurie_ is **Chi-chi**  
>  _Trevor Loref_ is **(Mirai) Trunks**  
>  _Vinztche Dorian_ is **Vegeta**  
>  _Correm Yumin_ is **Kririn**  
>  _Lorelei "Honey B. Lum" Belle_ is **Bloomer Briefs**  
>  _Julienne Murcrowe_ is **Nathaniel**  
>  _Batholomew Hughs_ is **Bartimaeus**
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warning:** Expletive-heavy.

“Bastion.”

“Liam,”

 

\------- **-x-** \-------

Act 2: **  
Leading Lady**

\------- **-x-** \-------

 

FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THIS WHOLE AFFAIR STARTED, Bastion Gorhan Gyurie actually felt like he was back on the set of a romantic feel-good movie. Only thing is, there were no cameras, no glaring lights-- _and this would be the part where he had completely forgotten his next line_ and somebody was supposed to be yelling, “CUT!”.

But dead air continued to stretch between them, uninterrupted, and it was becoming more awkward than romantic. Moreover, Bastion knew that this could literally go on _forever_  because he didn’t stand any chance of winning a battle of _“not breaking long uncomfortable silences”_ against _this_ man.

With that in mind…

“Uhm, hi. It’s great to see you again.”

More awkward silence.

He guessed, either his partner has also “forgotten” his next line- or he wasn’t a big fan of serendipity and this whole “happy coincidence” that they had found themselves in. But Bastion knew that the great Liam Princelo Sotea Jr. was _never_  the type of actor who forgot his lines -even in real life, which could only mean that right now, this was his notorious cynicism doing the talking (and this is why he is effortlessly the reigning king of uncomfortably long silences).

“Why are you here?” Liam finally says.

It wasn’t the warmest thing to say to a good friend you haven’t seen in ages. Bastion had been hoping for something sweeter along the lines of _‘I missed you’_ or _‘How’ve you been?’._ Even a more definitive reaction at the very least- like scathing resentment over their sudden “falling out”. Actually, Bastion would have loved a punch in the face compared to a cold, flat-line, ‘why are you here?’.

He would’ve taken offense in that. If, he didn’t know this man even more than he did himself at times. And one thing about Liam, was that he never liked mincing words. His friend was clearly just as edgy as he had been to get answers.

“I’m waiting for someone who’s supposed to be waiting for me too. Right here, at this very spot.”

“ _Who?_ ”

“I, uh,” Bastion actually had to stop himself from saying, _‘you?’_. “I have absolutely no idea.” _No mincing words._

Liam’s eyes grew wide slowly, almost imperceptibly to anyone else.

“And you?” Bastion shot back point-blank. “What brings you here?”

Liam sucked in a slow breath, veiling those orbs of his that were a cosmos of lapis lazuli, ruby, and amethyst; one of his stalactite fangs ever so subtly digging into plush pinkish-green lips. Sure, the Namek’s eyes were obscured by those ridiculously dark sunglasses but when it came to him, Bastion’s well-informed imagination had no problem filling in all the gaps. Liam did this whenever he was focusing on remembering his lines. Outside of the set, he did this when he was trying to think of how to best say something.

The faint purple blush staining his cheeks now, however, was normally not part of it. For a split-second, Bastion thought his imagination was playing tricks on him because the blush completed a picture that he has seen too many times before; _it was the very same sensual expression Liam made every time Bastion took him, over and over again, in his fantasies._

Seeing the real thing for the first time was shockingly surreal. How it managed to be subtler and yet sexier all at once, boggled him. But then again, to his infatuated mind, Liam never failed to make even the most unappealing and even otherwise ridiculous things look _impossibly sexy_. _Ankle-length capes, dirty-mustard-coloured moccasins, bulky weighted mantles, turbans, fangs_ (he never found them sexy on vampires), _green, red, and pink skin, purple blood, meditating; long cynical silences,_ the list was never-ending! _Even the humdrum ordinary act of ‘thinking’ looked exciting on him… Crumbs, he even makes these stupid sunglasses look sexy. Ugh._

“I’m sorry, Bastion.”

_Huh?_

“I can’t do this.”

_Wait- what…?_

“I have to go.”

“Whoa, whoa! Liam!!! Hold on! Wait! Please!! _So,_ _it’s you? You got the same anonymous offer?!”_ In his haste to catch up with the man’s long strides, he almost misses a step and it knocks off his balance; his legs decide to skip over the remaining four treads at the very last moment and jump all the way down to the landing to compensate. _Arg!_ Bastion inwardly cursed the fucking stupid sunglasses for impairing his normally excellent eye and body coordination. But the man he was chasing abruptly stops and turns and the momentum of his plunge causes him to collide directly into that said man. More precisely, right smack into Liam’s chest where powerful arms and hands grab at his shoulders to steady him, effectively preventing both their bodies from ending up in a tangled and painful heap on the ground. The sudden whiff of Liam’s familiar scent- combined with the sensation of being smothered against solid pectoral muscles and held fast by strong arms, sent an incredible surge of heat and electricity throughout his entire being that zapped him of all his strength and ability to function. Unable to do anything more than grab on for dear life (or in this case, for dear Liam), feeling as though the planet was suddenly knocked off its orbit and he got thrown into outer space as a result, where there was no concept of direction and gravity or even time. He tried to convince himself that it was just the sudden adrenaline rush from his near accident and _not_ because of Liam’s intoxicating presence, but the very real boner he was suddenly hyper-aware of, insisted otherwise.

Bastion attempted to take a slow calming breath, blinking rapidly, and counting backwards from one hundred in an effort to regulate his vital signs which were running amok. It was a handy exercise to stave off mini-panic attacks that used to happen often enough, especially during the peak of his career when his schedule got too crazy, even for a superhuman like him. Those were the days that found him too exhausted and sleep-deprived to remember the lines he rehearsed or times he’d miss his alarm from over fatigue and arrive an hour late, and would have to work doubly efficient to make up for it. Just the kind of run-of-the-mill everyday mishaps any in-demand professional was bound to encounter in the span of their eventful careers.

Falling into the arms of the object of his life-long fantasies did not fit into that category. Usually, by the time he reached _ninety_ he had already regained full control of his faculties. Right now, he was hard-pressed to even remember what came after _eighty-one_. He gave up altogether when Liam shifted beneath his sagging weight and instead of doing what he expected –which was to push him off- those hands released his shoulders and wrapped around him in -what Bastion was sure he was only dreaming up- a protective embrace. _Oh, Kamisama. Was Liam deliberately trying to kill him from over-seduction?_ This gesture was the final blow that drains all fight from him; virtually vaporising his knees and everything left of him still keeping him upright. He bonelessly slumps into Liam’s body and relaxes into those arms- not minding at all if the world ended right there and then, _and dear Kamisama, bless these heaven-sent sunglasses!_

There was a wraith of rationale in him valiantly fighting to stay afloat in the cloudy befuddled haze that remained of his consciousness. And it told him that he can’t indulge in this wonderful slice of freaky heaven for too long, lest arouse the man's (and not to mention, curious bystanders') suspicions. Even if he wanted to believe that this was some romantic story unfolding and Liam was hugging him “romantically”, he should know better. And actually, he did. Laconic and taciturn tendencies aside, Liam was a gentleman by default and actually a really, _really nice guy._ That was all. But, his lagging brain refused to wake up to that reality just yet. And there was a very good reason for that… (apart from the obvious).

Liam was stooping a little, so Bastion’s lips fell just above his clavicle; his nose sliding nicely into the smooth crook of his neck. At such close proximity- while doing his very best not to outwardly swoon- he couldn’t help but notice how smooth and healthy Liam’s skin still was (being a Super Namek, he never scarred) and how fantastic it smelled; the warmth of his sweat that lingered around him only complimented that, and each breath made his head a little woozier and his skin borderline feverish. Those firm, muscular arms contracting under his clumsy and lumbering dead weight only made his hands involuntarily tighten even more around those bulging biceps.

Of course, Liam, being the good-hearted, ever-forbearing best friend that he was, just let Bastion do all that. Let him inhale his neck and squeeze his muscles (even if it tickled) and just waited patiently for the other to “gather his bearings”. And this was exactly why Bastion found himself appreciating Liam longer than he should and falling for him even more without even knowing it (since he was _still_ in denial about his feelings). _Liam was really the nicest (and cuddly-sexiest) friend in the whole world._

When he finally feels his knees materialize again, enough to actually allow him to move, he lifted his head and gave a sheepish titter (immensely relieved that he left no evidence of drool on the man’s shirt). He mutters a breathless ‘thanks!’, as he dolefully pushed himself off, wobbling unsteadily for a few seconds before he finally managed to convince the Namek that it was safe to be removed from his arms.

“Why did you take off like that? It’s not like you…”

“I’m sorry. I just… I think this is a mistake.”

“So, it _is_ you.”

“No. Not yet, at least.”

 _Confusion? Hurt? Anger? Or elation?_ He didn’t know what to feel. Only moments ago, he was beyond happy to find Liam here, and now he didn’t understand why the man was being so aloof. He never expected this, yes. But now that he saw what he wanted, only to find that the feeling wasn’t mutual- he didn’t know why he couldn’t just let it go. _So what if Liam wanted out?_ He had every right to back out. That was what this whole surreptitious meeting was for, in the first place. And if Liam wasn’t happy to be cast with him, he didn’t owe it to anyone to explain his reasons. As his best friend, he of all people had to accept and respect Liam’s decision. Bastion knew this and yet, he really couldn’t help being too indecently pleased and so utterly heartbroken all at once.

Perhaps, he might have underestimated this “little crush” he’s had all these years and after teaching himself to “conceal” for so long for the sake of professionalism, he might’ve actually unwittingly assembled an atomic bomb from all the sexual tension that he had unconsciously stowed away. It felt as though that bomb had chosen this time and place to finally arm itself with his racing pulse counting down the seconds to its detonation, and Bastion feared that he might be completely helpless to stop it from exploding in their faces.

“You don’t want to do it?” Bastion wanted to scoff, but his voice trembled. “I don’t understand.”

“I just can’t. Let’s leave things at that.”

“No,” He grabbed Liam’s arm before he could walk away. “I need you to tell me! Why is this bothering you so much? Is it because I’m a guy too? Is it because we’re good friends? I mean, c’mon, Liam. You’re the one who would always tell me that it’s only acting and that we’re professionals, so when has something like this ever been an issue with you? You’ve done loads of stuff like this before! And, _geez!_  Did you count how many zeros were in that paycheck?! It’s a ridiculously generous offer -that in case you haven’t noticed- doesn’t come by as often anymore and I won’t lie, I’m a bit desperate as of late, so for Kamisama’s sake, help me out here!”

Liam relaxed and turned, and Bastion released him to let him process the hurried avalanche of speech that was rained upon him. Another paradox of Liam’s brilliant mind was that he was never one to make brash judgements; always punctiliously considering his decisions no matter how uncertain or confused he was about any given situation.

So, Bastion knew for a fact that this wasn’t something Liam was doing on a whim or because ‘he didn’t feel like it’. Whatever Liam did, he always did with good reason and usually after much arduous thought. Whatever was compelling Liam to act this way had to be one hell of a complicated conundrum because he had that ( _very sensual_ ) pensive look all over his handsome face again with the added light purple blush. And in spite of it all, Bastion just couldn’t stop his heart from plummeting again to only Shenron knows where…

Another effect that daunting and calculating silence had on him that he couldn’t stop was rising panic. It was hard not to when those sharp blue eyes would often wander until they found his own brown ones, seemingly boring into his soul through there, and in this case, rattled his already oxygen-starved brain and caused him to incessantly babble…

“The truth is, I was desperate enough to go through with it with just about anyone… Pathetic, I know. But, I thought how bad could it be, right? Y-you… you were the last person I expected to find waiting here… but now that I did… I’m so relieved. And happy… well, at least I _was-_  until you ran off.”

Liam raised an eyebrow at that but _still_ didn’t deign to comment.

Sometimes, Bastion really felt as if his best friend was doing it on purpose, to get him to regurgitate his soul and all of his secrets in the worst, most humiliating way possible: _as one giant emotional hairball of incongruous and unsightly poppycock_. In short- until he was completely and perfectly undone at the man's feet as he continued to, well- _stare him to death._  Bastion shifted his weight and ran his fingers through his overgrown fringe. An unconscious habit of his that surfaced every time he was tense. 

More unbearable silence…

Trying to contain his thoughts and feelings at this point was a lost battle and he knew it. "I- I mean, of all people, you just make me feel comfortable doing whatever, you know? A-and since it’s my first crack at this sort of thing… I knew you’d be great at this, because, well, you just are! In everything! I- I mean, it’s not that I’ve pictured you this way or anything! B-but, I know that there’s no one else out there, you know? Who I could learn from. No one who could be better than you…”

 _Liar. Liar. Liar. You are such a liar, Bastion Gorhan Gyurie. Bastion, the great liar. Your soul will rot in the lowest levels of HFIL! Geez, that doesn’t even qualify as “good acting” at all. Did you really think you could fool someone like Liam with that load of bull??_  That’s right… He probably sees right through me. _Every single time._

“Bastion,”

He froze. Whenever Liam said his name like that, it made the world stop and stutter a little bit.

“Oh, and you don’t have to worry, Liam! I’m clean! I have myself checked every month  -even if I don’t really engage in, err, the kind of promiscuous activity that- uhh, _oh crumbs_. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“Bastion.” The sudden iron grip around his forearm makes him squeak and compulsorily meet his companion’s eyes. “Will you please, just shut up for one moment?”

Bastion let out a deflated sigh, obediently averting his gaze downward in an attempt to comply. His sights settle on Liam’s shoes. They’re a pair of black *Zadidaz running shoes.

Liam endorsed the said brand before for an entire basketball season’s _“end of summer to autumn”_ collection and Bastion actually bought all eleven shoes that Liam modelled for those series of commercials. He knew Liam didn’t even like basketball that much. His eyes trail up to the loose-fitting dark plum-coloured jogging trousers and the charcoal grey hooded jacket that completed Liam’s morning tracksuit. He apparently jogged all the way there from his house which he knew was more than thirty blocks away. Although, he wondered if Liam still lived in the same suite. Bastion used to crash at his pad all the time, until Liam got into a relationship with Ariadney Ochres…

“I just think this isn’t going to work.”

Bastion snapped to attention.

“Why? Did you have someone else pegged for this role?”

“No,”

“Is it because of Aria?” The name always tasted bitter on his tongue.

“What…? No.”  

“Well, why then? Why did you even bother to come out here if you felt that way? Am I that incompetent for you when it comes to these things?”

“No, of course not, it’s just-”

“Well, what could it possibly be then?!” Bastion interrupted heatedly. He almost _never_ got angry at Liam like this, and the mere idea of them fighting was upsetting him even more. But right now, he felt that he was being treated unfairly and remembering certain things he didn’t want to didn’t help the shock and frustration he felt. “Would you have agreed to do this with anyone else but me? Is that how much you hate me for what I did?”

“It’s not that, _you idiot._ ”

“Well, do you plan to actually _tell me_? Or is it your new hobby to enjoy taunting me?”

Liam closed his eyes as a vein began throbbing in his temple and his fingers automatically went up to massage it. This was transporting him to more than thirty years ago, when the three-year-old Bastion would be close to tears and even sob uncontrollably whenever “he felt” that he had failed to act the way the director needed him to. Back then, it annoyed him so much that he took it upon himself to comfort the boy, both patting his back and ordering him to ‘man up’ and take every stumbling block as a chance to learn. Bastion was extremely smart and caring but sometimes he got carried away by his sentimentality. It’s been a lifetime since he last lived through an episode of it, though, and was usually only treated to this side of his friend when alcohol was involved. Bastion must be more desperate than he’s letting on if he was about to throw a sober fit.

Then again, he realized that his sudden walk out earlier may have been a tad too harsh and overly dramatic…

“Listen, Bast-”

“No, Liam! You listen! I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m sorry, okay? I’m so fucking sorry to disappoint you! But it’s me, alright! I don’t know why either, but I was the one they paired up with you! And it hurts to know that - _for some reason you can’t bring yourself down from your pedestal to explain_ \- you didn’t want it to be me, but even if you’re being such an ass right now, I’m not taking back what I said earlier! I still- wnmmph!”

Liam didn’t normally resort to locking lips with people he wanted to shut up, but he made an exception with Bastion (since patting the agitated boy’s back didn’t look like it was going to work this time). The offhand kiss, however, proved to be _very effective…_

Bastion remained mute and relatively calmer (if you didn’t factor in his racing pulse), many seconds after Liam had already removed his lips. And his aching ears greatly appreciated the silence, _very much._ But after more seconds elapsed wherein Bastion remained too stunned to remember to move or even breathe, Liam felt that it was cause for concern…

“You still what?” he murmured, their faces still dangerously close.

Bastion actually looked like a three-year-old all over again, his cheeks dusted fiery-pink and moisture pooling at the corner of his eyes. “Why did you kiss me…?” he croaked, his voice a mere breathless whisper.

“To shut you up,” Liam said simply, before gently pulling the demi-Saiyajin up with him as he straightened to his full height. “And to prove a point.”

_To prove a point…?_

_Oh, gods. What point…?_

He would have panicked all over again, his instincts setting off alarms for some reason, but most of him was still sinking underwater. Liam’s deep baritone response was hitting him in sluggish undulating waves, all garbled and disjointed, and everything was tipping to one side like a boat about to capsize. Bastion cringed, mortified when he felt Liam reach out to steady him again, for the umpteenth time that morning!

_Oh, fuck._

_That was really sneaky, Liam. Kiss a guy to prove he’s in love with you… This is the point you wanted to prove?_

_Great. This is not at all how I wanted him to find out…!_

_Is this what it’s come down to? I’m all hung up on having sex with him and yet one kiss and I’m completely unravelled? Aw, but to HFIL with that! So what if he proved that I can’t handle one lousy kiss from him because I’ve got a thing for him? That was a damn good kiss and anybody would’ve reacted the same way! Why should that be grounds for my inability to perform this part? My personal feelings for him are entirely out of the question! Just you wait when the cameras start rolling, I will prove it to you that I’m a professional!_

_I’m not backing down, Liam. And I’m not letting you bail either. So, bring it on!_

Liam had already started walking, “If you’re done internal monologuing, maybe you'd like to continue this somewhere more private? Over tea.”

 

**-x-**

 

As they settled into a cosy and dimly lit booth waiting for their tea, Liam crossed his legs and rested his chin on his knuckles, fixing his eyes on a rustic-themed painting on the wall next to him; which Bastion took as his cue to speak.

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“If that’s going to be the only thing between us- the only reason you don’t want to work with me for this project, I’ll come clean and admit it!-”

_“That you’re a virgin?”  
“I’m in love with you!”_

_“What?”  
“What?!”_

Awkward silence.

“Jinxies!!!”

They both turned to the source of the overly bubbly interjection: A young blonde curly-haired waitress with two cups of steaming tea on her tray. And judging by the amused smile on her dainty oval bespectacled face, she had witnessed their simultaneous -and yet quite nonsynchronous- declarations for each other.

“You two seem like the kind of couple who would rather be jinxed together than have to jinx the other anyway!” she giggled. “Enjoy your tea!”

Bastion was momentarily derailed by the meaningful wink that was thrown his way. But Liam’s focus was –as expected- much harder to disrupt and his probing gaze was back on the half-Saiyajin sooner than he was prepared for.

“What did you say just now?”

Bastion groaned inwardly. His hadn’t even recovered from the kiss and now this? _An accidental confession??_ Just how much more could he manage to screw things up in one day? Somehow, he’d rather not know the answer to that.

What are the odds that Liam didn’t hear what he said? _Super Namek race? Super hearing?_ Oh yeah, he definitely heard. The question is, did he manage to catch it? He could just be asking for the sake of verification. Or- _reiteration._ Of course, he could take a chance and lay his chips on the more unlikely bet that Liam didn’t hear what he had said clearly enough, hence attempt to rectify the situation. Between being called out as a _‘virgin’_ and as a _‘virgin who fancied his best friend’_ , the former was still the less humiliating of the two evils. _Geez, did any of this really even matter right now??_

“ _I said…_ ” he began, putting on his best calm face as he brought the cup of organic Chamomile and Lavender tea to his lips and carefully sipped, trying to scald some backbone into his nerves. “ _I love **working** with you_ , Liam.” He held his breath and pretended to be engrossed with his beverage, glad that he chose a calming non-caffeine variety, expecting the shrewd Namek to shoot down his obvious lie any moment now…

But no such rebuttal followed and he allowed the teacup to disengage from his lips, at last, so that their view of each other was once again unobstructed.

Liam didn’t drink his tea, content for the moment merely staring at Bastion, waiting for him to… what? _To fess up? Fold under pressure?_ the younger actor didn’t know, really. But he was willing to take a chance. If Liam was patronizing him by pretending to buy that and just waiting for a chance to trap him again, then he wasn’t going to make it easy for him. They were both actors, after all. This was a bluffing game, and the winner was the one who could put on a better act.

“So, that’s it?” Bastion pushed his advantage since Liam was doing his _‘killing you softly with my Zen silence’_ thing again; _his special weapon of intimidation._ But oh no, he was determined to have the upper hand this time! “You think it won’t work because I am a _virgin_?”

“So, you _are_ ,” Liam spoke, a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He broke eye contact to gaze at nothing in particular. “I can’t say I’m surprised. But somehow I still am.”

“I have experience,” Bastion didn’t have to lie about that. “Just not as extensive as yours, I imagine. So is that your only problem with me? You think I’m too much of a virgin to do dirty things with?”

Liam gave him a withering look. “Is that something you normally think of doing with your best friends?”

“Don’t change the topic!” Bastion grit his teeth (more out of irritation at himself for being helpless to the sudden heat invading his cheeks). “C’mon, you’ve done films like this before! It isn’t like you at all to have a problem with a co-actor just because he lacks ‘experience'.”

“You’re right. I just have a problem because it’s _you_.”

The half-breed’s jaw fell slack. If someone had dunked a bucket of ice cold water over his head and punched him in the face at that moment, he would have considered it an act of kindness compared to hearing those words off of his best friend’s lips. _Why was Liam being such a dick?_ “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re okay with everybody else, but me?”

“Not everybody.”

“Fine, whatever.” Bastion spat crossly. “Not everybody. _Just not me._ Is that it?”

 

“Do you _really_ want to do this with me?”

 

Bastion had to look up at his friend’s eyes to be sure his ears weren’t deceiving him. The expression he found there matched the soft, even somewhat pained tone those words had been uttered. One minute it’s all insults, then now it’s concern? All these mixed signals; he didn’t know what to make of it anymore…

“I know you,” Liam continued. “I’m sure you didn’t remain a virgin for more than thirty years because there were no takers. It’s because you’re a romanticist.”

Bastion’s heart was pounding in his ears now. _Just what the dragon’s ballz was Liam driving at…? And why did he feel so scared to know, all of a sudden?_

“You did read the contract, right? The sex scenes can’t be fake.”

Of course, he did. He was well aware of that detail. Bastion swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly painfully dry. Liam knew him well enough to know that he never entered these things carelessly. He had two prominent people from the industry close to him who taught him that. His elder sister Klarion, and of course, Liam himself.

 

_“Don’t you want your first to be with the one you love?”_

Liam met his eyes when he said that and Bastion didn’t look away.

 

This?

 

_**This** was the reason he didn’t want to do this film with me? Because he was worried that I might have “someone special” that I’d like to have my first legitimate sexual experience with?_

_Oh, Kamisama. If he only knew…_

 

_How many times I gave my virginity to him in my dreams; in front of a crappy low-quality monitor, locked in my room, masturbating to his beautiful voice and pleasured face; how many times I greedily took that divine body, tasted his sweat-slick skin and kissed those soul-searing moans from his lips…_

_Gods, Liam…_

 

_“What makes you think I have a special someone I want to have my first real sex with?”_

 

It was the boldest and most brazen thing he had said all day. And now that he knew the root of all this misunderstanding, he felt that he could finally come clean himself. He was tired of running away from the greatest and biggest secret of his life.

 

_There was never anyone else._

_It has always been- just you._

 

He was going to tell Liam the truth, once and for all.

 

“Well,” Liam crossed his arms and regarded him with narrowed eyes, “for starters, you have a girlfriend.”

 

_Girlfriend…?_

 

“Did you tell her about this? Is she okay with you having sex with someone else and not her?”

 

_Girlfriend??_

 

Oh.

_Oh…_

 

 **End of Act 2.  
** Continued in **~~Act 3 The Other Leading Ladies~~ Act 2.5 Revealing Intermission**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (01/06 – 08/2017)

**Author's Note:**

> Story #44: **“Desperate Times Call For Pornography”** & all related Derivative Fanwork/Characters/Concepts & Ideas  
>  ©2015-2017 Marieko West
> 
> * * *
> 
> **X-posted** : [MewrSaidTheCat](https://www.fanfiction.net/~mewrsaidthecat) {FFnet}
> 
> * * *
> 
> **My Hetalia Works** : [LM_Artless](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LM_Artless) {AO3} / [lovemeartless](https://www.fanfiction.net/~lovemeartless) {FFnet}  
>  **Works Archive:** [M(☆)W: The Asteroid E2-13](http://mariexfolie.blog.fc2.com) {fc2}


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